Then Comes Marriage (31 page)

“You’re safe here,” I tell her, begrudgingly getting out of bed. I make sure not to mention that the homicide rate has gone up a lot in the last year. “I’ll arm the alarm system before I leave. The code is 4-9-0-4 in case you need to go out or anything.”
 

“Okay.” She sits up, rubbing her eyes. “How long will you be gone?”

“I can’t say. An hour at least. I’ll find out more when I see the body. Go back to sleep.”
 

“Be safe.” She lays down only to pop up again. “Derek?”
 

“Yeah?”
 

“Before you go I have a question.”
 

“Sure, what is it?” I ask.
 

“Want to go from dating to exclusive? I really want to be able to say I have a boyfriend so my grandma will stop bugging me to find a nice boy.”
 

I can see her grin through the dark. I sink back down on the mattress, needing to put my tongue in her mouth and kiss her hard.
 

“Yeah. I do want that. See ya in a bit, Girlfriend.”
 

It’s nearly six hours later before I see her again. I crawl into bed as the sun comes up. Rachel wakes up and snuggles up with me, running her fingers through my hair until we both fall asleep. My phone rings not long after, and I’m too exhausted to answer it. When it rings again, I feel the mattress move and Rachel grab it from the nightstand. She answers, getting up and going into the hall. I hear her talk for several minutes, then comes back into bed.

“Your mom wants to take us out for breakfast. I told her that you were working all night, so I’ll go and you stay here. You need to sleep because I expect you to rock my world again in bed when I get back.”
 

I stick my arm out from under the covers and grab her around the waist, pulling her in bed. She molds right to me like our bodies were made to go together like this. We spend a few more minutes together before she kisses me and gets up.
 

I mumble a thank you and roll over, missing Rachel already. She gets in the shower and I have a moment of panic that my bathroom is a horrid mess before I remember that I actually cleaned it a few days ago. By the time my mother gets here to pick Rachel up, I’m sound asleep, because the next thing I know it’s almost 10 AM and I’m waking up.
 

I have a text from Rachel saying that after breakfast my mom is taking her to an antique market downtown. She reminds me to rest because I’ll need it for tonight. Her words are followed by a picture…a full nude she took of herself in my bathroom mirror.
 

Fuck.
How the hell did I get so lucky? I take that memory of her in the shower with me, unable to wait until she gets back. Then I get out, get dressed, and do a bit of much needed housework while I wait for Rachel to return.

Another hour passes before she gets home. It’s lunchtime now, and my mom insists on making lunch.
 

“This is all you have?” she asks me, setting stuff for sandwiches down on the counter.
 

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
 

“Oh, nothing,” she mumbles, and goes on to say how I really need a woman in the house.

Rachel, who is sitting next to me at the kitchen table turns. “Should I tell her I’m a terrible cook?”
 

I grin and shake my head. “Let’s save that for another day.”
 

Mom stays after we’re done eating. And cleaning the kitchen. And even the living room. I’m about ready to tell her to go home so Rachel and I can be alone when she gives Rachel a hug goodbye and says she’ll call me and make dinner arrangements later. I walk my mom to the door while Rachel goes to use the bathroom. I shut and lock the door, then go into the living room to wait for Rachel.
 

On my way, I see a patch of sunlight pouring into the hall, illuminating that spot for the first time in over a year.
 

Fuck. Ben’s room. Rachel must have opened the wrong door on accident. I freeze like a deer in headlights. What do I do? And what the fuck am I supposed to say? I haven’t seen the room in so long, I forget what’s in there. Deirdre took most of Ben’s stuff, but I know there are still pictures on the wall, and that the crib is still there. I’m sure it’s all covered in dust now, like a time capsule, sealed up and waiting to ruin everything.

My breath leaves me in a ragged huff. I have to say something, have to offer an explanation to Rachel. My mind races with a lie, because I don’t want Rachel to think of me any different. I’m finally feeling happy again, and it’s all because of her. Losing her in anyway would kill me.

My feet move on their own accord and now I’m walking down the hall, unable to stop until I get in the doorway. My heart lurches when I see the room, painted baby-boy blue, a big wooden letter “B” hanging over the crib. The closet is open, empty hangers and a few crumpled shopping bags clutter the floor. A black and white ultrasound picture is framed and sitting on the dresser, and a large color photo of me holding a newborn baby hangs crooked on the wall.
 

Rachel has a hand over her mouth, slowly looking around the room. She whips around when she hears me in the doorway. Her eyes glisten.
 

“Derek,” she starts, voice coming out in a whisper. “Did…did you lose a child?”
 

“I did,” I start. “But he’s still alive.”
 

Her gaze goes to the picture of me holding Ben, then back to me standing right here. “I don’t understand.”
 

I extend my hand, wanting out of this room. It’s suffocating, mocking. It reminds me of how shitty people can be, how incredibly selfish Deirdre is and how it’s entirely possible for the rest of the world to be just as terrible.
 

But not Rachel.
 

Her fingers caress the rough skin on my hands, and we step into the hall. I shut the door, feeling my chest loosen a tad when things are out of sight. We go into the living room and I sink down on the couch. Rachel sits close next to me, afraid of what I’m going to tell her.
 

“I was causally dating this girl,” I start. “And she got pregnant. She told me it was mine…and I believed her. When the baby was three months old, she confessed he was never mine, but she thought I’d make a better father than the guy who knocked her up. I guess that guy turned over a new leaf and she wanted to give him another chance. So she took the baby and left.”
 

Rachel’s mouth opens but she can’t find the words. Instead, she takes my hand again, holding it between both of hers. “That’s terrible,” she says and moves in closer, pressing her lips to mine. “I’m so sorry, Derek.”

“I never dealt with it. I never told anyone how much it hurt, how much I loved being a father and how I want to be one again…just to my own kids this time. I closed the door to the room and in here,” I say and put my fist to my chest. “Closed it and locked it and never dealt with it. It festered and turned into such a mess I honestly thought there was no hope of ever being happy again. How can you get on with life after something so shitty happened? You can’t. So why try?”

I take a breath and look into Rachel’s blue eyes. “And then I saw you, and everything you went through. And the more I got to know you the more you inspired me…and the more you showed me that nothing is impossible. I could move on. I could be happy. And I could meet my absolute dream girl and not have her run away screaming after I told her about my emotional baggage.”
 

Rachel smiles. “When did you meet her?”
 

I laugh and take her hands in mine. She leans in close and I bend my head down, pressing my lips to her forehead. Her arms go around me and I pull her in. This is how we’re supposed to be. This is where everything feels right. She’s my other half. We fit together. We click.
 

We are meant to be.
 

“What do you want to do?” she asks softly.
 

“Empty out the room. Turn it back into what it was and wait until my own children need it.” Fuck, it felt good to say that out loud. Hell, it felt good to admit to myself. I want to have a baby. I want this one to be mine, to hear a little voice call me Daddy. I want to teach my son or daughter how to ride a bike, how to read, how to be a decent person in this world. I want a wife, someone who loves me as much as I love her. It took an enormous amount of effort to convince myself that those were things I didn’t want or need.

“What was the room before?”

“I had it set up as a game room. My stuff is in the basement.”
 

“You never got it back out?” she asks and I shake my head. “Well, if you want to get it out later, or anytime in the future, I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to,” I tell her. “This isn’t what you came here to do.”
 

Her lips curve into that beautiful smile. “Being with you is what I came here to do, and if I’m helping you move stuff around the house or getting freaky, I’m fine with it. Though don’t get me wrong, getting freaky is more fun.”
 

“Getting freaky with you is more fun that, uh, anything,” I say with a smile.
 

Rachel gently runs her fingers through my hair. “Don’t feel like I’m pressuring you,” she says softly.
 

“I don’t, and I know you’re not. Though truth be told I could use some pressuring. I know it’s not good to ignore shit like this. I just…I don’t know how to deal.”
 

“I’ll help you,” she promises. “I want to. I care about you a lot, I hope you know. I think you know, but in case you don’t…I do. So I want to help you. Really. And Derek? Don’t be ashamed.” It’s like she’s reading my damn mind. I wrap my arms around her and bring her in close. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Want
. It’s an emotion I blocked out for so long on anything other than at a primal level. I smile and kiss her once more. “Rachel,” I whisper, “being with you has made me want things again. I want to be happy. I want to have hope for the future.” I put one arm around her, and tip her chin up to me. “And right now, all I want to do is tell you that I love you.”
 

Rachel’s lips pull into a smile. “Derek, whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone. Because I love you, too.”

Epilogue

Rachel

Three years later…

I twist my engagement ring around my finger, nervously biting my lip. I keep my eyes down, using extreme caution not to steal a glance in the mirror before the hair stylist is finished. I study my freshly painted nails, tempted for some sick reason to stick the edge of my fingernail in the paint to see if it’ll make a mark. Instead, I flatten my hands on the black cape that’s draped around me and close my eyes.
 

I think of the waterfall, of the way the little droplets plummeted down to the ground and splattered my body when I stood close. Goosebumps threaten to break out along my skin when I recall the way the mist covered my face, and how all I could hear was the crashing of the water coming down from the heavens above.
 

In two days, I’ll be on a first class flight on my way to Maui for my honeymoon. For real this time. And I won’t be going alone.
 

“Don’t worry,” Lauren says, walking around the salon booth with a sleeping baby in her arms. “We have plenty of time. No need to worry at all.”
 

I move my eyes up to find her face, careful not to move my head and mess up my hair. “You’re the only one worrying about time, you know.”
 

She nods quickly and checks the time on her phone. Her wedding ring sparkles in the salon lights, and the baby stirs. The worry about time vanishes from Lauren’s face as she looks down at her daughter, Charlotte. “Hey sweetie,” she whispers. “Are you hungry?”
 

The three month old baby coos and reaches for Lauren’s face. The moment Lauren reaches up to move her shirt aside and nurse the baby, she’s calling to her other daughter, Ella. “Ella, leave that in!” I watch in the mirror, amused at the toddler pulling at the hair clips. “Why did I think having your hair done was a good idea?” Lauren rushes after Ella, and then Charlotte starts crying.
 

It’s chaos, and I can tell Lauren is flustered. If I could get up and help, I would. My sister Ashely goes over instead, taking the crying baby from Lauren so she can fix Ella’s hair. Both of Lauren’s girls are beautiful, a perfect mixture of her and Noah.

She smooths out Ella’s hair and takes Charlotte, sitting in an empty chair next to me to feed the baby. With a sigh, she shakes her head.
 

“It’s worth it, I promise,” she tells me, smiling down at her baby.
 

“It is,” I say back, getting a little emotional when I think about having my own child someday. Someday soon.

The stylist steps around me, pinning the last few curls into place. The photographer comes around, taking candid photos of us all. A few more minutes pass and then my hair is done.

“Ready?” the stylist asks me before she spins the chair around. I nod and hold my breath.

“I love it!” I say when my reflection comes into view. I turn my head, inspecting my hair. “It’s perfect.”
 

She removes the cape and the bridal party gathers around, all gushing over me like they’re supposed to. Though, I like to think their compliments are genuine this time around.
 

With our hair and makeup done, we leave the salon and head back to the venue where the wedding and reception are taking place.
 

“It’s perfect today,” Ashley says, looking at the blue sky above us. “I was scared it would rain. The weather is pretty unpredictable in Michigan.”
 

“It is,” I agree with both points. “And it’s not too hot for July.”
 

“Everything works out,” Lauren says with a smile. We had backup plans in case it rained, but it doesn’t look like we’ll be needing them now. Since I moved to Dallas—again—a year and a half ago, we decided to have our wedding here, in my hometown in Michigan.